by Lydia Dare
“No need,” Gray replied.
After the butler bowed and backed out of the entryway, Gray looked down the looming corridor and took a step. It couldn’t quite be as long as it looked, could it? Certainly not. He picked up a candle from a table by the door and headed down the corridor. He followed Miss Mayeux’s summery scent all the way to the end but stopped when he heard soft humming from the kitchen. It had to be her. He pushed the door open slowly and poked his head inside.
The vision that met his eyes nearly took his breath. Liviana Mayeux stood by the cookstove in nothing more than her nightrail, a flimsy one at that. If Gray hadn’t been able to smell her scent, he would have assumed he was dreaming. Her virginal gown billowed around her shoulders and dragged along the floor. A lamp was lit behind her, casting her in shadows that outlined her body. A sudden and intense longing spread throughout his body. “What the devil are you doing in the kitchen?” he barked.
Miss Mayeux’s hand trembled with surprise, and she nearly jumped from her skin as the spoon in her hand clattered to the floor. In the silence of the night, the sound was nearly deafening. She sighed heavily and looked down at the utensil, then back up at him. “What the devil does it look like I’m doing?” she asked.
It looked like she was trying to get herself mauled by a foxed, overly amorous Lycan. But Gray certainly couldn’t say that. “Attempting to catch your nightrail on fire? Surely there must be easier ways to escape the social scene in Bath.”
“I wanted some warm milk, if you must know,” she said tartly.
“Trouble sleeping?” He could probably be more eloquent if his tongue didn’t feel like it had grown hairy and unwieldy.
Her gaze drifted up and down his body as he stepped fully into the kitchen. “Trouble holding yourself upright?” she returned.
Not really. He was doing well there propped against the wall. Wasn’t he?
“I have brothers, Mr. Hadley,” she said with a laugh. Then she pointed a spoon at him. “Don’t think that I don’t know where you’ve been.”
A sudden chagrin seeped into his mind. “And where might that be?” he asked.
Miss Mayeux stepped closer to him. The fabric of her nightrail rustled with each step. He couldn’t help but wonder if she wore anything beneath it. Such thoughts would only bring him trouble. But her hair hung in heavy, unbound waves over her shoulders, falling all the way to her waist. He wanted to bury his face in it and let her scent wash over him. He’d never smelled anything quite so decadent as her mix of flowery scents. She leaned close to him and inhaled deeply.
“You smell like a brewery,” she said, scrunching up her pert little nose. Then she leaned even closer. Her nose touched his jacket, and she leaned back with a harsh noise.
“Visited a lot of breweries, have you?” he asked.
She didn’t even look at him when she replied, “Visited a lot of whores, have you?” Then she stalked past him, back toward the cookstove.
“Wait,” he said. She didn’t stop, so he reached out to catch her elbow. If she were a wolf, she’d have snapped his hand off, if the look on her face was any indication. “I haven’t been with a whore.” He didn’t know why he wanted to tell her that. Truly it was none of her concern. He couldn’t even believe he was engaging in such a conversation with an innocent girl.
“I can smell her all over you,” Miss Mayeux said. Again she avoided his gaze as she spoke. Was she bothered by the fact that he smelled like a whore? How interesting.
Well, a whore, more than one actually, had perched herself in Gray’s lap that night. One had even lingered there for much longer than necessary. But he hadn’t taken her up on her offers. He’d been much too deep in his cups by then to do so. “I wasn’t with a whore,” he said again.
“Perhaps you’re too foxed to remember.” She shook her head and tugged her arm, but he didn’t release it. “Let me go, Mr. Hadley.”
Gray heard soft footsteps in the corridor and winced. “Lady Sophia,” he whispered as he released his grasp on Miss Mayeux’s arm.
“Oh, dear God,” Miss Mayeux groaned, tossing her head back in frustration. “All I wanted was a cup of warm milk.”
The door opened slowly, and Lady Sophia’s head popped around the corner. She took in the scene before her with a critical and appraising eye. “Miss Mayeux,” she said with a nod. Then she speared Gray with a glance that would have dropped a lesser man to his knees. “Am I interrupting something?”
“Warm milk,” Miss Mayeux said, retrieving a cup from beside the cookstove. She didn’t even attempt to explain.
Lady Sophia kept her gaze leveled on Gray. “Long night, Mr. Hadley?” she asked.
“Quite.” He refused to go into any detail. Who knew what lessons she’d dream up for him and Archer after this little conversation.
“Mr. Hadley might need someone to help him upstairs,” Miss Mayeux said softly.
“Volunteering for the job?” he asked. If he wasn’t quite so foxed, he would never have let that slip in front of Lady Sophia. Damn it to hell.
“Mr. Hadley,” his tutor scolded.
But Miss Mayeux cut her off. “Not with the way you smell,” she said as she turned on her heel and started for the door. She may as well have skewered him with a blade as with her sudden lack of interest.
If Lady Sophia wasn’t there, Gray never would have let the chit walk away. He would have chased after her and ensured that her interest was piqued. But he didn’t have that luxury tonight, so he just let her leave.
As soon as Liviana Mayeux was gone, Lady Sophia glared at him. “Don’t even think about it, Grayson,” she said.
Not think about it? That was like not being able to breathe when one’s lungs were empty. Not think about it? He’d endeavor to do that. And to stop breathing too.
“I’m serious,” she warned.
“You’re always serious, my lady. You might be happier if you were less so.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I do believe you are the last person I would take such advice from. Am I to assume that your degenerate brother has finally returned as well?”
Gray scoffed. “If you’re looking for Archer, I wouldn’t expect to see him step over this threshold until the very last second before he has to get ready for the musicale.”
“Typical,” she complained. “Stealing someone else’s fortune, is he?”
“Can it be stolen if it is lost fairly over a gaming table?” As soon as the words left Gray’s mouth, he wished he could call them back. A wounded look flashed in her eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.
“Do find your bed, Mr. Hadley. And unless you’d like me to send an unfavorable report to Lord Eynsford, you’ll keep your distance from Miss Mayeux. Do you understand?”
Gray gaped at her. “I beg your pardon?”
“I’m going to have a hard enough time helping the poor girl fit in with the ton as it is. Any time spent around you or Lord Radbourne will be a disservice to her. Keep that in mind.”
“Can’t have her associating with impoverished fellows, is that it?”
“Your wealth, or lack of, has nothing to do with the situation. I’m much more concerned about your blackened reputation. Hers is spotless. At least for now, and I plan to keep it that way.” She folded her arms across her chest. “Besides, rumor has it that Lord Radbourne has come into a sudden windfall, which would take you out of the impoverished class, Mr. Hadley,” she added coldly.
He gazed absently at his fingernails. It was much easier than looking into her face. “Archer’s windfall doesn’t line my pockets,” he said. Then he chanced a glance at her, watching her face closely as he said the next. “I bet he would give it back to you if you asked nicely.”
Her gaze jerked toward his. “My father’s money?” She snorted, a very unladylike sound that Gray hadn’t realized she was even capable of making. “I highly doubt it.”
He stepped closer to her so that he could murmur the words: “The cottage, Lady Sophia. I b
et he would give you Bindweed Cottage if you but asked nicely.”
A flash of pain crossed her face. “How do you know about that?”
Because his new sister-in-law had confided as much to him, in hopes Gray could convince Archer to return the lady’s property. But Archer never welcomed conversation about his newly won fortune, and Gray hadn’t wanted to broach the subject. “I just do.” He shrugged.
“Madeline should mind her own affairs.”
Perfect. Now he’d gotten Wes’ bride into trouble, and he hadn’t even divulged her name. Perhaps he could smooth over his lapse. “Poor girl is married to my brother. Worrying about others keeps her mind off her own troubles. You can’t blame her for that, can you?”
So much for smoothing over his lapse. Her anguished expression almost made Gray feel guilty for bringing up the subject in the first place. But then he remembered that he was in Bath at her command. Well, hers and his mother’s. He should be at home, taking care of business dealings with Wes.
Gray watched her face as her mouth opened and closed. She obviously wanted to say something. But her lips clamped shut and she regally lifted her nose in the air.
“It must be hard keeping all that righteous indignation in check, my lady,” he said. “Do you ever just want to explode with it? To scream to the heavens?”
“I’ve never wanted to do any such thing,” she huffed, looking affronted at the very thought of behaving in such an outrageous fashion.
“Why did you come in here tonight, Lady Sophia?” he asked softly. He wanted to like the lady. He really did. Madeline thought highly of her. And he thought highly of Madeline.
“I heard Miss Mayeux leave her room, and I wanted to make certain she was safe.”
“She was.” He heard the bark in his own voice and tried to soften his tone. “She was safe,” he confirmed.
“But how much of that is because of your honor and how much of it is because I walked into the kitchen?” She shook her head as though disgusted with the sight of him. “The girl was in her nightrail, for heaven’s sake.”
“Good God, you say that like she was naked,” Gray grumbled.
“She may as well have been for all the scandal it would cause for her,” she said sharply. “Had someone else discovered the two of you…” She let her voice trail off. “You’d be married to the girl before you knew what hit you.” She laid a hand on Gray’s arm and looked up at him with enough seriousness in her eyes that he was slightly taken aback.
“Neither of you wants that. Don’t ruin the girl’s prospects, Grayson,” she whispered. “You wouldn’t want her to end up in a predicament like mine. Forced into a life she never would have picked for herself in order to survive.”
Then before he could reply, she quit the room, her dressing gown billowing around her legs in her haste to escape.
He almost followed her, but his feet were still slightly unwieldy, and he wasn’t sure what he’d say if he caught her. Gray swiped a hand down his face. He’d had way too much to drink. It would be the last time he ever let Archer bully him into drinking gin, god-awful stuff that it was.
***
Livi listened intently outside the door until it was suddenly flung open and Lady Sophia cannoned down the corridor. Livi backed into shadows and waited until her tutor had passed. She tried to digest what she’d heard. Of course, Lady Sophia had warned Mr. Hadley away from her. That much she’d expected. But she hadn’t expected to hear so much about Lady Sophia’s circumstances. Circumstances beyond her control.
It obviously had something to do with money. Lady Sophia’s father’s money, if she’d heard correctly. Why did Radbourne have her father’s money? And a cottage?
Livi tapped her chin as she stood there in the shadows. She’d have to give this a lot of thought so she could find a…
A cough broke her from her musings.
“It’s quite impolite to listen to people’s private conversations.”
“It’s equally impolite to stalk people in the corridors.” She tried to make herself sound as haughty as Lady Sophia did. However, she merely sounded distraught, at least to her own ears. “And I wasn’t listening.”
He snorted. “Yes, you were. You’re already plotting to use Lady Sophia’s circumstances to your advantage somehow. Did you think you could coerce her into helping you escape to a port and then onto an American-bound ship?”
She hadn’t even considered such a thing. If he wasn’t standing so close to her, she’d have stomped her foot. But he might consider that to be childish. Did she care about his opinion? She sighed heavily as the truth hit her. Yes, she did care about his opinion, which was both mildly disconcerting and inconvenient. “I merely wanted to understand how the lady thinks,” she murmured. “I can’t figure her out.”
“And you must ‘figure her out’ before you can befriend her?” he asked.
“It helps,” she mumbled.
He chuckled lightly.
“I’m happy you find it amusing.” She itched to hit him. Much as she did with her brothers, but in a completely different way.
“Lady Sophia could use a friend,” he said softly. “Though I think that’s the last thing you’d ever consider.”
Livi’s face warmed, all the way to her ears. “No, it’s not,” she said quietly. Then she sniffed.
“But her circumstances are almost as dire as yours. Even more so.”
“Truly?” she couldn’t help but ask. The lady was a conundrum.
He nodded once. “You might find an ally in her if you gave her half a chance.”
“Have you found an ally in her?”
“Good God, no.”
His response made Livi want to laugh. It was so genuine. Or at least she thought it was. How much of him was real? And how much was him playing the part of the gentleman everyone expected him to be? Was he feral at heart? She’d love to find out.
He jerked a thumb toward the stairs. “To bed, Miss Mayeux?” he asked.
Her heart skipped a beat. “I should think not,” she blurted out, without even thinking.
He laughed again. “I was referring to you going to your bed. And me going to mine.”
Livi stepped toward him and slowly stroked her hand down the front of his jacket. She let her voice drop down to a sultry purr. “Somehow, that doesn’t sound nearly as entertaining,” she said.
He stiffened beneath her hand.
She turned to go upstairs, but quick as lightning, his hand shot out and wrapped around her waist, drawing her flush against him. “Don’t play with me, Miss Mayeux,” he growled. His warm breath blew across the shell of her ear. His head bent, and his whiskers rubbed her temple as he spoke, he was that close. His voice rumbled across her skin like warm water, every bit as fluid, but not nearly as soothing. The hairs on her arms stood up. She stiffened her spine and pushed back from his embrace. It was like trying to press against stone. So she decided to try a different tack.
Livi stepped up onto her tiptoes and whispered in his ear. “What makes you think I’m playing, Mr. Hadley?” Then she gave him a little shove, which must have startled him, because he released her and reached for the wall to steady himself. She couldn’t keep from giggling as she ran toward the stairs. He didn’t follow. And she wasn’t certain whether she was happy about that or really, really sad.
Six
With both of his elbows resting on the breakfast table, Gray held his head in his hands. If only he could get the throbbing in his brain and the ringing in his ears to stop. No more gin. Ever. What the devil had he been thinking? Perhaps he hadn’t been thinking at all. That was a definite possibility in hindsight.
“Good morning,” came Miss Mayeux’s overly cheerful voice.
For lack of anything intelligent to say, Gray grunted in way of greeting.
“Ah, head aching from a wild night of debauchery and imbibing, is it?”
Gray opened his fingers wide enough to see her. “Shh.”
An impish grin lit her face. “You need
to eat sausage and drink a raw egg yolk.”
The very idea turned his stomach. “Stop talking. You’re making my head hurt worse.”
She plopped down in a seat across from him. “I would have thought a man of your… heritage could hold his liquor better, Mr. Hadley. You English boys are a rather tame lot, aren’t you?”
Gray lifted his head and glared at her. “No one has ever called me tame.”
Her brow rose in disbelief. “Indeed? That is surprising.”
“Elbows off the table, Mr. Hadley.” Lady Sophia strode into the breakfast room and smiled at Miss Mayeux. “I thought we might head into town this morning. It is quite fashionable to be seen in the Pump Room during the morning hours.”
“Take her, please. Then perhaps I’ll be allowed some quiet,” Gray complained.
Miss Mayeux shrugged. “I told him to eat sausage and drink a raw egg yolk, but he’d rather suffer in pain.”
Lady Sophia’s nose scrunched up. “Why would you tell him such a thing?”
“The poor man is suffering the aftereffects of too much imbibing.”
Lady Sophia scoffed. “Well, that is exactly what he deserves then.”
“You are too kind, my lady,” Gray grumbled.
Lady Sophia smiled at him. “I did not pour drink down your throat, Mr. Hadley. Pray do not blame me if you do not enjoy the aftereffects.” Then she turned her attention to Miss Mayeux. “There may be some fashionable gentlemen in the Pump Room this morning. If anyone catches your eye, point him out to me and I’ll tell you what I know about the fellow.”
“Marrying her off before she’s even had a season?” Gray asked.